


Sounds of Laughter, Needn't be Heard, Loved Nonetheless

by Not_A_Valid_Opinion



Series: The many attributes and workings of Snufkin the Wanderer [1]
Category: Moominvalley (Cartoon 2019), Mumintroll | Moomins Series - Tove Jansson, 楽しいムーミン一家 | Moomin (Anime)
Genre: But their relationship is at least, Character Study, Deaf Character, Gen, Hearing aids, M/M, Mentions of Moominmamma and Moominpappa, Moomin finds out Snufkin is deaf of accident, Moomin loves Snufkin, No beta! Let us die like illiterate men, Sign Language, Sniff is good but loud and annoying too, Snufkin loves Moomin, Stinky sucks ASS, The ship isn't super visible in this, deaf!Snufkin, they're so queercoded its ridiculous
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-18
Updated: 2019-04-18
Packaged: 2020-01-15 23:58:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18509743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Not_A_Valid_Opinion/pseuds/Not_A_Valid_Opinion
Summary: Being deaf was just a part of Snufkin.He was used to it, born with it, lived in it. Silence was calming, was home.When Snufkin gets hearings aids, so small they go unnoticed by all but him, he feels no need to mention his deafness to Moomin or anybody else in Moominvalley, or all of his travels. After all, what difference does it make if they know or not?When Snufkin's hearing aids go missing, it turns out it makes quite the difference.





	Sounds of Laughter, Needn't be Heard, Loved Nonetheless

**Author's Note:**

> In this fic, Snufkin is deaf but is given hearing aids for his travels by a nice and also deaf warlock. They're so small that they go directly in his ears- something no real hearing aids do, especially when the story is assumed to be set in, so they're considered to be magical in this context. I still try to treat them as real- don't sleep with them in, don't swim with them it, etc. We never see Snufkin put his head underwater even when we do see him swimming or bathing in the show, at least to my memory, so I figure I'm not too far out of line with this idea anyway. 
> 
> Lots of deaf people feel no need for hearing aids, and Snufkin feels the same. Yet, he's also a person who follows the cards, so he doesn't turn down the opportunity when the world gives them to him. This is not a story about erasing deafness through hearing aids; no story with hearing aids should ever be that. Snufkin will always be deaf whether he uses them to hear or not, and that does not erase his identity or slighten the deaf culture in general!  
> With that out of the way, some things to note before reading: 
> 
> \- Snufkin has paws! Of course they're the tiny little man hands we see in the comics and show still, but in the books those tiny little man hands are sometimes referred to as paws nonetheless, and I found that adorable and went with it.  
> \- Hearing aids are not well known of to some of these characters here, because simply they've never met a deaf or HOH person wearing them. It does not mean they are less common in this world, just that they've never crossed paths.  
> \- I named her Haddledee because i thought of it and laughed  
> \- Even though Snufkin has paws I do write that he 'hands' something over bc if I wrote he 'paws' something over that would be. Silly  
> \- This will be part of a series where each part is Moomin learning something new about Snufkin or exploring Snufkin as a character. I love the guy, and I love the air of mystery he presents and would like to write how I'd fill in the blanks of his character. That being said, I love everybody in this show, and each story will be more than just Snufkin!  
> \- Snufkin's perspective takes the first part of this story and Moomin's the second. I call Moomintroll 'Moomin' to make it easier, same as I call Moominmama and Moominpapa simply 'Mama' and 'Papa'. 
> 
> Okay! With those few notes out of the way, I hope you enjoy!

_Snufkin_

 

Snufkin was deaf.

It had never been a problem before, not like some might expect or fret for; it had never been what those unsure would assume as a hindrance, or an obstacle. It was never a tree log blocking the road to walk over, nor was it a river too tall to wade yet too narrow to row. Those were problems, hindrances, obstacles.

Being deaf was just a part of Snufkin.

He was used to it, born with it, lived in it. Silence was calming, was home.

It was hard to connect to others, he supposed, when options were limited and voices were obsolete. He’d been taught sign language from his young age by the deaf nanny hired to help his situation and knew nothing but, and he was not the only one where he was from that could make this case. Still, he found he could not pin his lack of connections on account of his deafness- he’d come to understand this over a short amount of time. He liked the silence he was born with, but he liked the quiet he made for himself more.

Home was a loud, jumbled mess that he could not hear, but he had no doubt about. It was bustling with children, some like him and some not, all of which he could not talk to and would not much wish to do so, anyway.

So, he set off. Being on his own was just another part of him. Not a problem, hindrance, nor obstacle at all.

Snufkin travelled for a long while. At least, the world seemed to stretch long as he went, earning new sights and smells, new smiles and surroundings alike to push him forwards. He’d never stay in any towns he passed, preferring to pitch his tent far off where he would be unbothered or would be left to his own devices. He didn’t need company, though he did in his own way like it so.

When Snufkin came across a town or a village, he’d never stay the night, but he would sometimes visit for the day. He’d feel the warmth of the bodies around him, the energy and vibrations of the space he was honored to share. He wouldn’t need anything from them, but he found he the polite, if awkward and unsure smiles of the strangers he sees there, was reward enough.

He’d visited a small village, a few years after he’d started his travels, where he’d found an old man and a girl younger than he struggling to lift up a felled fence.

 _Perhaps the wind had blown it down,_ Snufkin had thought to himself. The strangers were struggling, no matter the cause, and Snufkin drops his bag full of his few possessions against a tree before dashing their way, taking a further end and pushing up in a mimic of their own manors. In just a short struggle, the fence began to rise, and the man had returned the stake to nature. The fence leant on its post in support, and once it was steady, Snufkin and the girl released their ends.

The man turns to Snufkin, mouth moving, and Snufkin decided not to waste his time and simply shakes his head and points to his ears. Then, he sticks out a paw. He didn’t much care for the contact, but recognizes politeries and when to insinuate them.

The man eyes his paw in surprise before gleefully taking it and giving it a rough shake. It pulls Snufkin’s whole body with it, but the man has a lovely, sharp-toothed smile, so he figures it’s okay. When the man has released Snufkin’s paw, there’s a residual tingling sensation that Snufkin doesn’t think he’s felt before, and doesn’t think he likes. So, instead of shaking the little girl’s hand the same, he tips his hat at her. She doesn’t seem to mind, and smiles a smile so similar to the man’s that Snufkin assumes they’re kin.

Then, to his surprise, the little girl moves her hand in a manner Snufkin is surprised to see but isn’t unrecognizable.

In a familiar form of sign language, one only his nanny had talked with him in, the girl asks if he is deaf.

Snufkin blinks. He nods, and the girl waves a hand directionally before bounding around the pitched fence, into a house just beyond. Snufkin raises an eyebrow at the man remaining.

“We are both deaf, as well,” signs the man. He pats Snufkin’s back, mostly to edge him towards the house. “Come inside! We have something to show you.”

Snufkin debates declining. He liked people, but wasn’t certain if he was willing to intrude like that. Snufkin was not a distrustful boy, but he also wasn’t sure if he was ready to have a conversation in a language he knew but hardly used with people he’d only just met. It was an exciting and an off putting thought all at once. The man seems to notice the pensive look, and adds, “we have coffee or tea, if you’d like.”

Ah. “Coffee sounds pleasant, if it’s not a bother,” he agrees sheepishly, because though he was too young to be an adult and too old to be a child, he had found coffee was a delicacy he rarely had anymore. It wasn’t something he could make from his bagged materials, after all.

The man leads him inside the house, and tells him to take a seat, and he does. He goes to make a pot of coffee over by the counter, and the little girl is bouncing in her seat at the kitchen table, on a chair across from where Snufkin lowers himself into.

“I’m Haddledee!” She introduces, signing so quickly Snufkin isn’t sure if he read all those letters correctly. He repeats them back to her, and she nods, so he nods back and introduces himself, slower. She almost looks bored at his pacing, much to Snufkin’s amusement.

“Well, Snufkin, it’s nice to meet another deaf person. We had to grow to hear just to be social, have you never?” Haddledee asks.

Considering he has no idea what that means, Snufkin replies, “no, I’m sure I’ve not. If I could hear, life would be similar to it is now, I recon, only I’d be able to hear.”

The girl opens her mouth and tosses her head back into what’s clearly a laugh, and a loud one, if Snufkin had to guess. “Not so much! Life is easier, with hearing,” she says, thinks for wording, and continues, “it’s nice to purchase fruit and not bring a pencil and paper each time, and we can give you that!”

The man places a coffee in front of Snufkin’s confused face. He really has no clue what to say, so he takes the coffee with a thanks and sips it despite the heat. He likes it black, just as it was offered, and it’s such a pleasant taste he doesn’t mind how it vaguely burns his tongue.

“Snufkin, it was?” says the man, and Snufkin nods. “Well, Snuf, my daughter here is trying to make you an offer. We’re both deaf, but we can hear just fine. How that is is through this magic device we’ve got in our ears. It’s hardly noticeable, but better taken off at night for comfort, and you can’t swim with them in. But, through this, we can hear the world's sounds and exist among them! Would you like one?”

As he speaks, the man plucks two fingers into each ear and pulls out what looks almost like a flower bud. He palms them, and extends his hands out to Snufkin, who blankly stares at the offered devices in surprise. Magic, he says? Magic was a beautiful thing, it truly was, but to rely on magic was never ideal, and to use it was something Snufkin would never have considered for himself. To hear was something Snufkin had never really considered for himself, either, seeing as that would be a passing thought in his young mind, more a wonder than a suggestion, and certainly less than a wish.

The man waves a hand and gets his attention, and continues to sign, “I made them myself, and I can make them for you, easy. You’d owe us nothing in return. Hearing isn’t a goal for every deaf person, we know, but it’s something we do offer as it has brought wonders of noise to our family. If the gods have given us the magic to allow our hearing to blossom, what say we cherish that, young one?”

The gods, huh? Well, Snufkin didn’t care much for that line of thinking. He’d never bother to oppose it, but had also cared little to explore it, so it did little now to influence him.

Yet, it brought up a good point. Snufkin did believe in signs. He’d read the cards in front of him, take what was given by life, and give back what was owed to the world by cherishing what little he had. If he caught a minnow and the world told him to catch another, he’d do it, no doubt. It was in his nature to nomadically exist, and follow the signs as he did so.

Was this one of those signs?

“Say you, now; yes or no? I can make you some, you can take them on your way, and you can take them out where I cannot see if you do not like them. But,” he smiles softly, “gaining sound, I learned more about this world than I ever would have through my eyes. Together, they’re gorgeous things-”

“Oh, won’t you try?” the little girl buts in, signs overlapping her fathers’, who notices and stares in bemusement at his daughter.

Snufkin feels laughter bubble in his throat. Yes, he felt nothing but truth and excitement from these people. They were ready to share their view of the world with him- and he wasn’t as ready to decline as he had been, at the thought. If the world was made with sound, perhaps it would be nice to engage as such. It was a thought, that, and an answer as well.

So, he nods. He stays for dinner, and by late night, he’s given his own set of the dubbed ‘magical hearing aids’. They offer him to stay the night, but he’s excited to rest in his own tent under a sky as beautiful as the stars allowed. They nod and wave him off, and he thanks them for their hospitality.

He picks up his bag under the tree and pitches a tent a ways away, peeling off his hat and scarf and snuggling under his blankets.

In the morning, he lights up his pipe and relaxes in a patch of sun. He boils some water, and as it goes, he peeks into the small container he’d been given the day prior.

He finds himself nervous. What would noise even be like? Loud and crowded, jumbled and screeching? Just as peaceful, fresh and serene as silence?

He puts them in. He’d not sure if it works, really, but can feel a shiver run down his spine at the first contact. The man had told him that would happen, and that the more he wore them, the more they’d feel like putting on his boots in the mornings.

It comes to him slowly. He’s not sure what it is, but there's something to his right, and he turns to see his water boiling over. Oh, so that’s what that sounds like. He soothes it, and in its absence, more noises are present- noises it would take time and practise to place names to.

The first noise he learns is the sound of water boiling over. The next, the quiet murmur of the river in the distance. After that, the birds up above him, and the bustle of the distant village in the morning.

Snufkin is deaf. He loves that about himself, and will always love the peace and silence of simply being in the world with himself.

The sound of the ground under his boots, the ruffle of his clothes as he pulls them on, the breaths he lets in and the breaths he lets out- those were something more to Snufkin. Something he learns to love, on days were he chooses to hear it.

From then on, his hearing aids are on and off. They’re too much for towns, at first, so he practises in absence of others. He learns the sounds of nature and animals first- cats, being a creature whose sounds are a favourite to him- and eases himself into this new facet of understanding he’d reached. To the trees, the water, and the animals all around he learns to find a voice he can settle on. It’s messy and wobbly, but it’s his. He supposes its always been his, and it will always be his, whether he uses it or not.

It takes him a little over a year to wear his magic hearing aids into a town or a village, and longer to hold a stable conversation. Though, he finds little use of those, even now he can.

It takes another year after that for him to find Moominvalley.

It’s a breezy place, Moominvalley. Lots of open space for nature, yet busy enough for laughter. It followed the seasons, and was productive with the sun, quiet along side the moon. He thinks it’s rather pretty, and wears his magic hearing aids as he passes by, but does not interact with the inhabitants. Instead, he continues onwards, finding a residual cliffside with a babbling brook running down the pitch. Its secluded and made for good echo, which was a sound he’d learned to enjoy quite a bit in his travels.

He pitches his tent, catches some minnows, and pulls out his harmonica. It was an instrument that made gorgeous music, the first music he’d ever heard, and wanted to learn to play almost immediately. It was the first thing he’d bought in a town, truly- all else he’d brought with him when he’d left home to begin with. He knew how to play the harmonica, at this point, more than he knew how to hold a decent conversation. Of course, he could do both. He sometimes found, with the right people, he liked to do both.

But his harmonica was good enough for both.

He meets Moomin and his friends, shortly after that, as a comet zooms past their planet. From them, Snufkin finally finds a reason to stay in one place, and finds himself a home with his tent moved to a small cross-bridge in view of Moominhouse just inside Moominvalley. He’d leave every winter, travel as he knows and learn as much more as he can in that time. The world was too big to waste in one spot, really, and after a while of resting his paws itched to do more. So, he’d travel as normal, and return for the spring.

After all, he’d always been one to follow the cards. Yet, his heart seemed to point him back to Moominvalley, every time. He supposes that, too, was a part of his nature.

So, on one beautiful autumn day, Moomin and his friends ask him to join at them at the beach. He agrees, because he loves the sound of the waves, the colors of the water, and the smell of the ocean; he loves all of that, and being with his friends, who have come to being a constant in his life.

Of course, that was mainly Moomin. The boy was around the same age as he was, though younger still, and had a heart times two. He was naive, but only to Snufkin, who had seen more of the world and felt it uniquely, in as many ways as possible. Moomin was the hardest part of leaving in the winter to see more, because he’d always look so sad as he left. At one point or another, Snufkin had wondered if he was feeling smothered under that pressure; eventually, he realized that feeling wasn’t claustrophobia, but reciprocation.

Snufkin plays his harmonica on the rocks as the others splash in the water, resting under the sun with his eyes closed. The song he plays was always in his heart, but to give it sound on something so small was a gift unto itself. The chance to play wherever he could whenever appropriate was one of the main reasons that, overtime, he’d gotten used to wearing his magic hearing aids daily, just as the boots the nice man had said they were like.

Wearing them, however, meant he couldn’t get inside of his ears wet. His hat was more than enough protection from rain.

It did nothing to protect him from Sniff, however.

“Hey. Hey! Music Man!” Sniff cries from where he paddles in the water, and Snufkin finishes his song before staring at his friend.

“Hello,” he acknowledges, missing the relaxing notes already. Sniff was one of the louder creatures that, if he were made to spend an entire day alone with, he’d probably take out his hearing aids altogether. That didn’t mean he was unappreciative of the taller fellow, but Sniff certainly helped him appreciate quiet like he never had before.

Sniff kicks, sending water back into water. He doesn’t actually go in, but he does stand at the edge. “We found something shiny at the bottom of the bank we’re trying to pull up, but it’s far too heavy, even for us all! We could really use your help to lift it out!”

Snufkin tips his hat up to get a better look. Moomin, Little My, and Snorkmaiden were all wading in one specific spot, each looking down at the water in frustration and curiosity alike. As though he could feel his gaze, Moomin looks up at him and waves. “He’s right, you know!” calls the troll. “You’ve got the better fingers of us all, I bet you could dig it out so we could lift it up, whatever it is!” His friend calls out.

Snufkin sighs. Yes, he probably could. Though, he’d either damage his hearing aids while submerged, or he’d have to take them out to swim. He’s never told Moomin about his deafness, and taking them out would mean not being able to hear him, which would give that away fairly quickly. After all, Moomin could be naive at times, but he was never an idiot. He’d know something was up right away. Although, there was a chance that whatever he found was interesting enough that Moomin and the others would be focused on the object and not his lack of hearing- he could always swim back to the shore and pop them back in before anybody noticed, anyway.

It wasn’t that he wanted to hide the truth from them. He was not ashamed, nor afraid, to tell them. It was more along the line of him never having done it before- after all, it was a peculiar way he’d made the world into sound. He was a sheltered soul- never big on sharing, nor telling, nor even talking at times. This felt like something so personal, he wasn’t certain if it was something he was ready to do. Honesty should never be delayed, but it shouldn’t be rushed, either.

Looking at Moomin’s eyes in the water, staring back into his own pleadingly, so warm and friendly that Snufkin was grateful for every second he could see the light glimmer off of them… it was enough for Snufkin to put aside his worries. Moomin was his friend, and any friend of Moomin’s was also his friend. These were people whom he knew much about, because unlike him, they weren’t hesitant to share themselves with others. They were open books, even when the words were sometimes difficult to read. Snufkin had never wanted that for himself, but every moment spent with Moomin was a push towards sharing his life with others.

He could still be a vagabond and miss the warmth of another’s eyes, couldn’t he?

“Well, are you coming in, Snufkin?” Sniff grumbles, paws on his hips in impatience.  

Moomin laughs from the water. “He doesn’t have to if he doesn’t want to, Sniff!” He calls, and Snufkin’s mind is made up.

“Okay, I’m coming! Just-” he twiddles his fingers at the hem of his clothes, unsure of how to explain, and quickly settles on, “I won’t be able to hear you at all if I do this!”

Sniff scrunches up his nose. “What, how come?” He asks, and Moomin and the others wade the water in anticipation, watching and waiting for his response. And, gosh, he’s never felt this nervous around them before. He shouldn't, right? But he does, any way.

He steels himself and pulls off his hat laying it on the rocks. He plucks out his hearing aids and lays them on the familiar fabric, sticking them between the fold so if the hat blew away on a sudden gust, his hearing aids wouldn’t roam away. The familiar sound of nothing washes over him comfortably, and he breathes slowly out before making his way into the water and diving under.

(With his aids out, he cannot hear the rustle in the bushes from behind him, nor does he notice the figure in the shrubbery peering over in snide curiosity).

Under the water, he finds the object in question, and he digs his fingers around it and shuffles so the sand becomes dislodged. Moomin, Little My and Snorkmaiden are all under the waves as well, tugging at it as he twists the sand away.

It works. The object rises out of the hole, a glimmering rod that Snufkin can’t quite make out until it’s seen above the water.

They resurface, and the sun glints off of it brilliantly. Snufkin stares with wide eyes at what must be a bedazzled cane, parts of it broken off where it had been wedges between rock and sand and eroded by water over time. Still, it’s gorgeous, and he’s not surprised it caught their eyes. Most likely Snorkmaiden’s, if he must guess. She always had an eye for gems and jewels as such.

He tears his eyes away, and can see the others’ mouths moving. If they’re talking to him or to each other, he’s got no clue. He smiles softly and passes the cane over to Snorkmaiden, who must have asked to see it, since her paw was extended outwards.

Over on the shore, Sniff is dancing about. Though, through narrowed eyes, Snufkin realizes it’s not a happy dance- rather, he’s jumping about haphazardly, as though in alarm. He points behind himself, and Snufkin, sees the problem.

His hat is gone.

 _Oh, boy,_ is all Snufkin can bother to think.

 

_Moomin_

 

When Snufkin emerged from the water, he’d stared at the object in admiration, as though engraving each and every detail into his own mind. Moomin has seen him do this before, though he wished it more often. When Snufkin found something new, he’d watch it like it was precious- gorgeous, even- and remember it all. Moomin had shown him a drawing he’d done of himself and Snufkin sitting on the bridge with the water running underneath, which he’d done after watching Papa portrait Mama earlier that evening. He thought it was gorgeous, how Papa had captured her, and decided to draw Snufkin. Though, when he turned out quite badly, Moomin had drawn himself in the picture by his side to make Snufkin look better. He hadn’t meant to show Snufkin the drawing, but Little My had managed to get it to him anyhow.

Snufkin had stared at it with bright eyes and the softest smile, and told Moomin he loved it and that he’d never forget it. Moomin didn’t doubt him for a second, though it did spring a blush upon his own face.

“That sure is nice, huh Snufkin?” He says, and Snufkin doesn’t agree or disagree, just hands the- a cane, was it?- to an excited Snorkmaiden, who eyes the object like it carried all the treasures of the world in it.

Offshore, Moomin hears Sniff yelling.

“Snufkin! Oh, Moomin, oh, Snufkin!”

Moomin blinks at his friends panicked tone. He’s prancing around the sand as though the water would bite him if he tried to enter. He couldn’t swim very well, nor did he care to, though they’d tried to teach him once.

“What is it, Sniff?” Moomin calls back.

Sniff points behind him, to the rocks where Snufkin had been basking under the sun. “It’s Snufkin’s hat! It’s been taken!”

“What? By who?”

“Stinky! I just saw him snatch it and disappear into the coarse bushes, I’m too big to follow him inside!”

Stinky. Of _course_ it was Stinky, who else would do something as foul as steal Snufkin’s hat? Why would he even bother to take it, what use was it to him?

Snufkin swims his way to shore, making his way there the moment Sniff started to point and draw attention to the hat’s absence. He wouldn’t have heard whose taken it, with how quickly he’d started to go, would he have?

Moomin exchanges glances with his friends in the water. Little My, who looks outraged; and Snorkmaiden, who looks concerned. He’s positive he himself looks a mixture of both, because he certainly feels a mixture of both. Stinky was a rotten friend at times, always taking what didn’t belong to him and ruining their day whenever he felt it fun. He’d never messed with Snufkin personally before, though, so this was quite the surprise.

Together, they swim behind Snufkin, who has already made it to the sand and follows Sniff’s finger to the bushes. He drops to his knees and parts them, revealing the small path Stinky had taken, as Moomin sees the moment he stops behind his friend.

“Oh, we won’t fit in there, will we?” Moomin worries, grabbing his far-too-large stomach.

“ _Y_ _ou_ won’t, maybe!” Little My snides before diving headfirst into the shrubbery.

Moomin hears Snufkin sigh- probably out of relief, as it sounds, for Little My was fast and small and angry, and would get the hat back, if anybody could. He knows Snufkin knows this, but he figures it might be nice to hear, too. “She’ll get it back for you, don’t you worry, Snufkin!”

Snufkin doesn’t say anything, just continues to stare at the spot where Little My disappeared off to. Moomin decides to leave him be and turns to Sniff instead.

“How’d you know it was Stinky, Sniff?”

Sniff gesticulates wildly. “I heard his ugly little laughter and turned around to see him making off with the hat! What a rotten little man he is, huh?”

Moomin agrees, but doesn’t say as such. He turns back to Snufkin, whose eyes have turned cast to them, watching them talk. He smiles gently at his friend, who seems to look a little less tense at the sight of that alone, but he does not smile back.

“Should we wait here for Little My to get back with the hat? Or should we try and follow, find a way around?” Snorkmaiden wonders aloud, and Sniff frowns.

“There’s no way we're getting after Stinky in bushes like those. I tried, once, to rescue a cute little kitty that was all tangled up! I had to get a pole for it to grab onto, since I couldn’t reach at it, and you sink in if you try to climb over them. And Stinky knows this, that’s why he did it, the little-”

“We’ll just wait here until Little My gets back, then,” Moomin decides, sitting down where he stood. Snorkmaiden hums in agreement and sits next to him, and after twiddling his paws around each other anxiously, Sniff moves to sit as well.

Snufkin watches them all get comfortable at the foot of the bank between rock, sand and bushel. After a tentative moment, he sits as well. His clothes, much like their fur, were soaked; Snufkin wrings out the green of the fabric, keeping one eye on where Little My disappeared off to. Moomin doesn’t mind being wet, since his fur is thin and he’d dry off soon enough. Snorkmaiden brushes her fingers through her hair and frowns at the dampness, while only Sniff’s legs are wet from where he stood at the shore, so he looks unbothered.

“If Little My doesn’t get your hat back,” Snorkmaiden starts, though it’s clear to Moomin that Snufkin doesn’t even realize he’s being addressed, “we can always get you another. Green, and with a feather in it, just like you had. It can’t be that hard to buy one like so, and we can always glue the feather on once we’ve got the hat, right?”

Snufkin doesn’t respond, nor react at all. Moomin shuffles closer to him on the ground and nudges him gently, causing him to turn around.

“Right, Snufkin?” Snorkmaiden tries again. “We can always get you another! Or, how do you feel about a palette change, perhaps a red hat this time ‘round?”

The vagabond still doesn’t respond. Instead, he looks at Moomin, eyes clouded and unreadable. He must see something in Moomin’s own gaze, though, for his eyes soften inside of them, and he turns back to Snorkmaiden.

“I apologize, friends, but I cannot hear a word you say. I can guess, of course, but there’s not much point to that,” Snufkin explains, voice steady.

His friends gap at him.

“What do you mean you can’t hear?” Sniff cries out.

“Why, whatever is wrong?” Snorkmaiden asks, worry clear in her tone.

“Snufkin?” is all Moomin can think to say.

Snufkin laughs. The others are quiet as they listen to the sound, each much more anxious than Snufkin looked. “You’re all talking at once,” the nomad giggles ecstatically, and it would be a happy noise on most people, but on the usually quiet and laid-back Snufkin it sounded almost hysterical, “but it doesn’t change the fact that I can’t hear a word of what you’re saying. For that, I do need my hat back, as I’ve left my hearing aids on them. I can’t swim with my head underwater if they’re in, after all.”

Sniff huffs and roughly shoves himself up, eyes wide but tone defensive. “If you can’t hear, then how come you can talk, huh? What kind of a weird joke is this, Snufkin?”

“Sniff!” Moomin cries, standing as well. “I don’t know what’s going on either, but it’s no excuse to be rude. If Snufkin says he can’t hear us, why would he lie?”

Sniff scrunches his nose, thinking, and sits back down in embarrassment. Moomin gets it, of course; he’s just as confused as Sniff was at Snufkin’s claim, and just as scared as Snorkmaiden looked. The idea of Snufkin not being able to hear anything raises many questions in the troll’s mind, none of which he could actually ask if Snufkin couldn’t hear the question.

Papa had always told him he was proud of his level head, and it was something Moomin prided in himself as well. When things got weird, finicky, or even scary; Moomin would always be ready to act, no matter how he himself felt.

Truth be told, he’d learned that from Snufkin; the wanderer was always so put together and smart- cunning, even, when he had to be. Moomin loved that about Snufkin, among many other things he loved about Snufkin.

Even now, he seemed just as usual, but there was clearly a bounce of anxiety in his form that betrayed his even reaction. That was how Moomin felt whenever something got weird, finicky, or even scary- Moomin would be strong to get through the situation, but he’d always feel the opposite as it happened. He was acting more like Moomin than Snufkin, and so if Snufkin wasn’t going to be Snufkin, Moomin would.

“Little My will be back with his- uh,” he starts, and instantly blanks on what Snufkin had called them.

“Hearing aids.”

“Yes, thank you, Snorkmaiden. Little My will be back with his hearing aids, soon. Until then, there’s not much else to do save for relax. The sun is still out, after all.”

Sniff crosses his arms but does not argue, and Snorkmaiden catches a glance at Snufkin, who watches Moomin give his speech silently. Snorkmaiden nods, and lays back on the ground.

Moomin sits next to Snufkin and lays his paw softly on top of the others’. Snufkin used to be uncomfortable with the physical contact- he’d never pull away, but he would go still or try and change the subject- but the more they spent time together, the more he’d start to initiate it himself, at times. Snufkin was like that about a lot of things, Moomin understood overtime as well. A lot of thing about him took time, and Moomin was okay with waiting, would always be okay with waiting for him. Instead of pulling away, he lets out an almost purr-like noise and waits alongside him for Little My to return.

As they sit, Sniff taps his foot anxiously until Snorkmaiden glares at him to stop. “Sorry,” he apologizes. “What even are hearing aids?”

Snorkmaiden says, “I believe they’re for the deaf or those going, to make the world a slight bit heard, at least. I read of them, once, in a book. It was a big and clunky device that attaches to the ear, so I’m not sure how we’ve never seen them, if Snufkin has them.”

They all sit quietly, then, thinking. Their thoughts become questions, none of which they could ask if Snufkin couldn’t hear, which leads to an air of frustration around the friends.

Then just moments later, out of breath but expression triumphant- she returns.

“Little My! Oh, you’ve got the hat!” Moomin greets excitedly, watching as Little My tumbles into the clearing, hat in tow. Snufkin rushes up and catches her before she falls, and she shoves him off and pushes the hat into his paws.

“That little dirt-rag of a thief ain’t got nothin’ on me!” the girl boasts, plopping onto the ground and catching her breath. “Although… I did get caught in some brambles, and that did take some effort to get out of.”

“Oh, Little My, are you okay?” Snorkmaiden frets, and she waves her off, yelling about personal space. Moomin turns his attention to Snufkin, who picks two small flower buds off the fabric of the hat. As Snufkin holds them up, Moomin realizes they’re not flower buds- rather, they’re too small and single-colored for that. The vagabond closes his eyes and pinches them between his fingers, pushes them into his ears. After a moment, his eyes open, and they turn to face Moomin.

Moomin isn’t sure what to say. In such a short amount of time waiting for Little My to return, he must have thought of at least twenty different questions he had to ask. Now he’s got the chance, none feel appropriate to say, nonetheless ask his friend.

Snufkin smiles softly. “You can say what you’d like, now. I’ll hear it.”

Moomin shuffles. “Are you really okay with us asking about it? After all, you hadn’t meant for us to find out, or we’d have already known, right?”

After a few moments of silence where Moomin waits anxiously for a response and Snufkin hesitantly thinks of one, Little My roughly grabs Snorkmaiden and demands to know what’s happened while she was gone. Snufkin smiles fondly at the inquiry and sits back on the floor, where he can calmly face everyone.

“Little My, while you were gone, I couldn’t hear a thing. I’d taken out my hearing aids to help lift a shiny cane,” he gestures to the cane that Snorkmaiden still held, which she almost looks embarrassed now to hold, “out from under the water and left them on my hat. I’m… sorry, for not telling you all sooner, I-” he breathes deeply, “I’m not afraid of being deaf. It’s something I always will be, and you mustn’t be afraid of yourself, now. I got these hearing aids from a man I suspect was a warlock of sorts, for he made me the hearing aids I’m wearing now, using magic. It’s why they’re so small, you’d never noticed.”

The others drop to the floor slowly as he talks, each leaning inwards in interest.

“Wait, you’re deaf? That’s what I missed?” Little My asks bluntly, and Snufkin nods. She frowns. “And these hearing aids, you need them to hear?” Snufkin nods again, so she frowns again. “Alright. So you’re deaf, but you can hear. What’s the problem?”

Snufkin blinks. “I never said there was a problem. I’d just never told you all, and now you know, so I figured I owed some kind of explanation. It was never my intention to alarm anybody.”

Moomin’s tail bats the ground. “You don’t have to tell us anything you don’t want to, you know. We know you like to keep to yourself, Snufkin, and nobody takes offence to that.”

Sniff huffs again. Snufkin ignores him and says, kindly, “ask me what you’d like to about it, if you want, and I’ll decide to answer, if I want.”

Moomin debates this. After a moment and a shared glance with the others, he nods. Snufkin’s eyes shine brightly, and it’s really a sight to behold. He’s never seen Snufkin look so excited, not even when he’s sharing a secret location or hidden treasure he’d found in his travels with Moomin. Perhaps Snufkin did like to keep things to himself, but he also seemed excited to share himself with others, when he could and when he wished it so.

Snufkin’s eyes encourage him to swallow. “Okay,” he says, eventually. “Alright, Snufkin. What’s your favourite sound?”

“Why,” he says softly, “I rather like the way you laugh, Moomin.”

Moomin startles, flushing, and does just that.


End file.
